Wedding Bells Inc
by Aeria Swordlancer
Summary: A major disaster in the first week of internship forces Erza to join hands with a man she hates the most. Hesitantly, they embark upon a journey to make weddings, the most exquisite experience for the brides and grooms-to-be. Will their enmity bring them back to square one? Or, will love blossom and turn this project into a runaway success? Jerza AU.
1. Business Partners?

**A/N: Tada! I present to you a story, that I have had the utmost pleasure to write. I wanted to do something different for my OTP and came up with this idea. The relationship between Jellal and Erza at the beginning might surprise you a bit but it's meant to be that way. Makes it a lot more interesting ;). Remember, this is an AU fic. It's set in Magnolia, but this city does not have a drop of magical power in it. Pretty much like my other story, Second Chances. Also, the rating for this chapter falls between T and M, owing to Cana Alberona and language. Ratings might change completely in the future, either for the entire story or for some specific chapters *ahem*. So, readers' discretion is advised. **

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Fairy Tail and its characters belong to Hiro Mashima.**

* * *

**-CHAPTER ONE-**

**Business Partners?**

* * *

One week.

It had just been _one_ friggin' week and this was what had become of Erza Scarlet's precious internship, thanks to the _much needed _intervention of a man she loathed to the deepest extent possible.

The dreams that she had woven with much delicacy and fortitude. The dreams that had been the hope of her parents and her two younger siblings. The dreams that had been a significant propelling force in her college life; all seemed to be heading towards a dead-end of despair and failure.

"_What is the meaning of this_?" came the Chairman's anguished wail from his desk. His height being significantly short, the only part of his body that was visible from the vantage point of the young interns was the top of his shiny, bald head.

Erza tried to push back the bile that had risen in her throat. Her hands had curled automatically into fists and she tried not to send a punch flying at the man who stood next to her. This demanded considerable strength and determination, and she was ready to forgo the opportunity to satisfy her id in favour of dealing tactfully with the rather grim situation that she had landed into.

Rather, a situation that Jellal _fucking _Fernandes had made her land into.

He'd been appropriately cursed into damnation for that blotchy affair he'd been responsible for a week ago.

The said young man, with his messy blue hair and a rather peculiar tattoo across his right eye, scratched the back of his head and avoided answering the question altogether. This was the woman's job. He had already got more than what he had bargained for and he wasn't going to let _this _opportunity get out of his hands. It was true that he had stepped in for the internship with much determination and a desire to prove something to his rather _sceptical_ father. However, somewhere along the line, he had realised that this mess had nothing to do with the life that he had chosen for himself, and that he was better off without getting dressed in a suit at seven in the morning and setting off for a nine to five. Now that he stood in front of the Director, ready to get the letter that would throw him out of the company, he realised that getting kicked out of this job wouldn't do as much harm to him as it would to his dear father. His ousting would definitely make his old man bury himself in shame.

Perfect.

And he wasn't even being sarcastic about it.

"Sir, let me explain," began Erza, taking it upon herself to undo the damage. She knew for a fact that the man next to her would be of absolutely no help, so she decided to get down to business herself.

"It was a mistake. A big mistake. It's just been a week, sir, and the interns haven't been able to...socialise much. This being a group project, the internal differences made it go all haywire. We promise to not commit such a mistake again, sir. Please give us a second chance," she looked hopefully at her boss, rather the top of his head, hoping her plea had hit home. With baited breath and crossed fingers, she waited impatiently for the verdict to come out.

"There is no scope for mistakes in an organisation such as this, young lady," the boss said then, suddenly getting off his chair and walking around the massive table to stand right in front of the two errant interns.

"I made that clear on the very first day of work. Dreyar Industries does not entertain mistakes of any kind. Employees and interns are regarded with the same eye and you should have known that before you…before you," the Chairman stopped, his eyes almost teary, thoughts going back to the major disaster that had occurred a day ago.

Why was it that he, Makarov Dreyar, had to deal with all the scallywags who'd decided to do something better with their lives in the city of Magnolia? He was no philanthropist. He was happy without the company of these university scamps who would unfailingly arrive at his doorstep to demand internships over the summer. With his gentle grandpa heart, and a massive reservoir of a paternalistic instinct of the strongest kind, he would always give in at the last moment and bring them in, hoping they would do something constructive with their lives and use their rather impressive, yet latent talents in the right direction. Yet, being the imps that they were, the brats would always manage to do something terrible that would make him and his entire company go _wallowing_ in the dirt and give written apologies to either the Consumer Forum, or The District Magistrate of Magnolia.

"A case for_ manhandling. _That's something new and _unprecedented_ for our company, I must tell you," Makarov said through gritted teeth, eyes fixed on the interns who squirmed under his gaze. "This was, perhaps, the only accusation that had not been slapped on our faces. Thanks to your _hard_ _work_, we now wear this medal with utter pride and jubilance."

Erza flinched at the Chairman's words. It was a well-established fact that Dreyar Industries- apart from being an ultra successful corporate venture with massive profits running every year- was also a haunt for the most notorious of mischief-makers in Magnolia. Despite its splendid reputation and professional outlook, the insides seemed to paint a completely antithetical picture; men and women clad in professional suits and pants would often turn the office into a pub during break-time- and the hangover from these _mini-parties, _as they were famously called, would invariably be carried forward into work, producing either profits of an exceptional level or attracting troubles of a thousand kind.

Erza had had a fairly good idea about all of this, when, fresh out of college and with all the enthusiasm in the world, she'd given in her application for an internship to this company. Despite a few reservations, she'd never been the one to discredit people based on mere presumptions and rudimentary judgements. Keeping her prejudices at bay, and shutting out the various warnings that she had been showered with before she so much as touched the application form, Erza had applied for the six month programme, wishing it to be an excellent learning experience with an off-the-rack ticket to a shining career. Little had she known that the company would make her rub shoulders with one of the most _eccentric _batch of interns that she'd come across in her life.

And as she stood, shivering down to her bones in fear and anxiety, waiting for a decision that would make or break her life, Erza could see doom approaching. The much dreaded blow was about to be dealt to her career, and if she were not to make some amends immediately, she would have her chips soon enough.

So as Erza stood thinking about possible solutions to the problem at hand, her mind went back in time to recognise and acknowledge the causal factor behind this major fiasco.

Two weeks ago, when she'd applied for this prestigious internship, she had all but hoped that her impressive resume would help her through and let her work with some of the brightest minds in Magnolia. However, fate came up with a cruel twist and Erza was given the job, albeit, with certain _work conditions _that were _mind-boggling _enough to induce severe migraines. Her desire to work with some of the brightest minds had been fulfilled to such an extent, that she stopped believing in making wishes altogether. Her prayer had given her Jellal Fernandes, rich brat and college poster boy, whose face she was going to sock one day.

Everything went well for two days; all reports were being submitted on time and the Chairman had been thoroughly impressed by the work of his new interns. Sadly, that was nothing but a flicker of a happy moment; a nanosecond worth of a strong sense of achievement that had been wiped off the moment it had been felt by a handful of dedicated interns. A mere _f__ive _minutes into the project, and things started going downhill at a ridiculously fast pace.

Just a day after Chairman Dreyar had praised their efforts and hailed them as the brightest batch of interns to have ever worked in his office, the neophytes working in the logistics department had been assigned a simple, yet tedious job as a part of their training. They were to look after the transportation of certain items to a posh location in Era where a wealthy couple was to get married. Five people had been assigned this task and Erza had been one of them. So had been the noob who stood right next to her. Unfortunately, the client turned out to be an old enemy of Mr. Jellal _fucking _Fernandes, and he _diligently _decided to take out his frustration through the project. If his single, prodigal mind wasn't enough, the other three interns sympathised with him after listening to his rather _heart-wrenching _tale and decided to put their fingers in the pie. With the deal done behind Erza's back, Mr Fernandes sent stockpiles of the prospective groom's supposed adulterous pictures and videos instead of the intended items, effectively spoiling the wedding and sending a case for manhandling coming their way.

Tch. What in kami's name had she gotten herself into?

With a desire to correct her mistakes and pull herself out of this major mess using any means possible- for she knew Mr Fernandes wouldn't so much string a single letter of apology to be of any help possible- Erza presented the first idea that came to her mind when she thought about the best way to solve the problem.

"I have a business proposition," she said unhesitatingly, igniting some curiosity in the two males. This was the time to act. Gone was the time when she could have sat at the edge of her bed, called up some of her friends and asked for suggestions. This was the real deal and she had to rely on her quick thinking and street smartness to come up with an apt solution. With an idea looming at the back of her mind, she decided to roll the dice. It was now or never.

"A way to make amends and tread on the path of redemption."

Jellal Fernandes shifted uneasily on his feet, his shoulders stiffening somewhat. He had certainly not seen that coming.

"_Amends_?" he whispered, glaring sideways. "I _don't _think we're supposed to make any _amends."_

Erza decided to ignore the dickhead.

"Sir, if I may make the proposal?" she asked, eyes fixed determinedly on Mr Dreyar. She wished he could see the fire that was blazing in her irises; the fire to do something beneficial for the company and make up for the shit that had been dumped on the company, courtesy, a man who was soon going to be bludgeoned to death.

The chairman cleared his throat and nodded. The suddenness of the suggestion had intrigued him somewhat, and there was no mistaking the little twinkle of mischief that gleamed in his eyes- as if he was waiting for something big to happen.

"Well," began Erza, thinking of a good way to articulate her ideas.

"This is not an official proposal, I agree. Being an intern, this is an idea that I came up with to win back the trust of our customers," she hesitated for a moment.

"Since we- rather- _certain…_ interns," her eyes flicked to Jellal for a second, contempt seeping out in copious amounts "- have completely disregarded the true spirit of business _and _relations, I have come up with an idea that will help us _build _relations, not break them."

Jellal felt like someone had just slapped him across his face and then stomped on him till he was an unrecognisable figure writhing away in the dust. This was more than unexpected, decidedly outrageous and absolutely uncalled-for. The redhead was messing with his plan and he needed to put an immediate end to her evil schemes. After all, the golden opportunity had come crawling to him on it's own accord and he wasn't just going to let some cheeky woman swat it away.

"What is the meaning of this, Scarlet?" he grunted, making his tone sound as threatening as possible. His eyes seemed to be producing sparks, that only intensified, as they crashed against the ones being produced by the redhead's eyes. The tension between the two could have ignited the furniture around, had it not been for the overbearing presence of their rather infuriated boss.

"Meaning?" the red-head remarked, snorting. "What any man who claims to have a little sense in him should understand."

She turned to look at Makarov again.

"I wish to open a department that will _create_ relationships. If Makarov Industries has been labelled a match-breaker, we shall remove that stain by opening a new wedding planning department."

Silence greeted her words. The chairman's expressions were unreadable. It seemed as if he was trying to weigh the consequences of this proposal using his calculative, business mind. His lips twitched occasionally and seemed to pull up in a grin, but he would always restrain himself at the last moment and settle for impassivity.

Contrary to his reactions was the male intern's outburst. His breath had been knocked out of his body completely, and he gasped for air. The idea had come as a massive jolt to his well-developed scheme and it showed on his face- now, a mask of horror that had been coated in the palest of white.

"What fucking _nonsense_ is that?" he protested, eyes as round as if he'd just spotted an extra-terrestrial organism. "That does not even make any sense! It's pure _bullcrap_!"

"Actually," intercepted Makarov, twirling his mustache rather enthusiastically. "This is a very good idea."

Jellal gawked at his boss and let out a strange noise that sounded like something between a grunt and a squeak. "Are you serious?" He would have been blind had he not noticed the twinkle in the old man's eyes in response to Scarlet's outrageous proposal.

"Well of course," Makarov chuckled. Somewhere deep down, his own matchmaking tendencies had been tickled and brought to the forefront. After the death of his beloved, his life had seemed barren and listless. However, the love of a certain pink-head had managed to bring him back to life, all thanks to certain matchmakers who had decided to help him out with the proposal and plan out his rather fairy tale like wedding. After this successful episode in his life, Makarov Dreyar had managed to cultivate a high regard for the profession.

"I'm proud of you, young lady. You've earned yourself, a second chance," he bounced his way back to his chair and jumped onto it. This time, instead of sitting on it and disappearing from sight, he decided to stand on it. The excitement seemed to have gone way above the old man's head.

"Thank you sir," Erza chirped, finding it hard to contain her jubilance at the thought of tiding over this problem without breaking much sweat.

"Thank you so much for your consideration."

"This is RIDICULOUS!" bawled Jellal, unable to take the foolishness anymore. This whole conversation was so supremely fucked up that his mind was finding it difficult to keep up with the claptrap. He had never been a part of such a ludicrous conversation before.

"Where did this even come from? Damn, you aren't even qualified to manage an event like that!"

"When do I start with the project, sir?" Erza asked, as if the other occupant of the room hadn't just opened his mouth to provide some sensible opposition.

Makarov, who had been muttering creepily to himself and completely ignoring the young man like Erza, raised a brow at the question.

"Well, you can start with it anytime dear, preferably tomorrow, but," he paused, his eyes flicking to Jellal for a second. "-this is going to be a group effort, _is it not?"_ he directed the question at Erza in particular, for she seemed nothing short of flabbergasted.

"_Group_ effort?"

"Absolutely," said Makarov, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Between the perpetrator of the incident and the leader of the group."

Had it been a different situation where so much had not been on the line, Erza would have understood everything within seconds. However, with so much happening at the same time- with most of it threatening to snatch away her job and insanity- it was difficult for her to process the Chairman's words. It seemed to create a hazy puddle in her head and she continued to stare at the old man, as if that would help her with some enlightenment.

"Sir?"

"You don't mean?" gasped Jellal, before Mr Dreyar had the time to respond to any query.

"Me and _her, _together, _planning weddings?" _he almost choked on his spit.

Erza's eyes widened as realisation finally dawned on her.

This was the first thing that she wanted at a time like this. _Perfect_.

It was Erza's time to protest. Vehemently, at that.

"This is impossible, sir! Utterly impossible!" she declared, shaking her head as if she were in a trance. Her eyes had turned to the size of saucers. "I cannot work with _this_ man!"

"As if I'm dying to work with _you!"_ Jellal offered in addition, equally ruffled. "You can kick me out! I have no qualms about anything! I would gladly accept it if you were to show me the door," he pointed at the said apparatus for what he hoped was, an added effect.

"There there there!" Makarov sang, using his hands to shush the interns. "The last time I checked, this office belonged to me. Therefore, all decisions related to this organisation and its personnel shall belong to me."

"But-" began Jellal, waving his hands dramatically in the air. He was effectively cut off his speech as the rather bristled Chairman cleared his throat loudly, indicating an end of discussion.

"Unless you want to lose out on your chances of holding that guitar again," he said with an glint of evil in his eye and Jellal gulped audibly. If the stakes hadn't been high before and if Jellal had had the chance to shake his way out of this mess, there seemed to be no such opportunity available to him _now_. Instead of loosening himself stealthily and cleverly out of the tight grip of this rather farcical situation, he had been enmeshed well into it, courtesy, the over-smart redhead and a powerful and crafty chairman who knew how to get his work done.

"Congratulations," grunted a disconcerted Jellal to an equally perturbed Erza, as Mr Dreyar took swirls on his swivel chair in victory. Deep down, the man could see that flame of talent and youthful energy burning inside the two interns that he wished to utilise to the maximum. If that meant shelling out some of his precious resources to support a never before taken venture for a month or so, he was more than ready to take the risk. After all, he was a kind-hearted grandpa who could not turn empty pockets at the youth if they had decided to do something as constructive and as noble as _that. _

* * *

Three pegs and five shots later, Jellal had decided to unleash the full force of his hitherto bridled anger. It had been one hell of day; in the morning, his dearest daddy had decided to _not_ give him a break for once and continued with his taunting programme. He was shortly and unsurprisingly followed by his elder and dutiful son, who did not even bother to take mercy on his younger brother, and his seemingly impartial wife who just couldn't take her eyes off the pocket mirror that she always carried with her. Next, his car had broken down on his way to work and he had to waste an hour to search for a taxi, for the cabbies had decided to call for a strike. Finally, when he had managed to arrive at his workplace, he had been sent a notice to meet the Chairman in person. Now, this had been an anticipated call. He had been waiting for it since he had exchanged the items of delivery while working on their project. However, the red-head had stuck her nose into his matters, and he was left with no option but to work with her as a godforsaken wedding planner.

Life was so beautiful.

_So_ _fucking_ _beautiful_.

"You mean…wedding p-pla- hahahahaha!" Ultear Milkovich laughed so hard that she was in the danger of falling off the beanbag that she was sitting on. One look at her rather unfortunate friend had her reeling with mirth.

'Oh Jelly!" she wiped the tears off her eyes and grabbed her aching stomach. This was too much information for her.

"_Wedding_ _planner_!"

Jellal rolled his eyes and uttered the worst curse that he could think of at the moment.

"Lay off, Ultear," he grumbled, looking for something to throw or punch at. "Don't make things worse for me."

"Ok! Ok!" said the chuckling lady, covering her mouth almost immediately and biting the insides of her cheeks to prevent the sniggle from bursting out.

"I-I won't d-pffftt."

Jellal felt like throwing the female out of his room, but decided to stay put. That would end up making things much worse. Then there was also the fact that the said female was capable of throwing him out of his own bedroom window.

"Thank you for being such a _great _friend," he commented in a caustic tone, messing up his bed-sheet and throwing his pillows across the room. As expected, that didn't provide much help.

"Y-you're we-welcome," the raven haired woman gasped in between her chuckles.

With a well-placed kick on the side-table, which only forced him to clutch his foot and wince in pain, Jellal slumped onto his couch with all the grace of a sack of potatoes. A gust-like breath escaped his lips as he clutched his head and threw it back in exasperation.

"How the hell am I going to get out of this mess? With the chairman putting my music career on the line, there is no way I can refuse to do this job. You know how influential he is, don't you, Ul? He's way more influential than my own old man._"_

Ultear, who seemed to have chortled to her heart's content, steadied herself and wiped the remaining drops of tears from her eyes. With a deep breath that was meant to calm her insides and clear her head of any ridiculously funny images of Jellal carrying flowers or managing the bride's dress, she moved to where her friend was sitting and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I am no optimist Jellal-" she began.

"Got that, Miss Naysayer," Jellal cut in crossly.

"What I meant was," continued Ultear, raising her voice a bit to emphasise upon her point. "That I am _not _a pessimist either. I am a realist," she paused, expecting her friend to answer back. When he did not, Ultear continued,

"Being a realist, I would state the most obvious and simple thing. What is done, is done. There is nothing you can do to change it. Even if you were to do something about it, you would end up ruining your career."

Jellal looked up at his friend and rolled his eyes.

"What's the difference between what I just said and the wisdom that you gave me right now?"

Ultear shrugged. "Nothing," she admitted.

"But the _point_ is that you and I both know this is the truth and there _is_ no escape. So suck it up, take it like a man and get over with it."

She picked an apple from a tray lying on the side-table and took a large bite of it.

"Moreover," she continued, her voice slightly muffled for she was chewing her apple, "You called for it. You had this trouble coming your way. So, better stop acting like a sissy and buck up."

"How wonderfully considerate you are, Ultear," Jellal crooned in mock rapture. "You should totally write one of those agony aunt columns in chick magazines."

"_Women_, not chicks," Ultear corrected, giving her best friend, a disdainful look.

"Ya ya…_women," _Jellal sighed, burying his face into his hands once again.

"By the way…what was the name of this woman who managed to rub _you _the wrong way?" Ultear asked curiously. Jellal was pretty sure his best friend would actually shake hands with the redhead for she saw in her, a person who was daring enough to pick up a fight with him.

"Erza Scarlet," Jellal hissed, pouring venom into his tone. Saying that name itself made him feel like he was almost ready to stab someone to death.

"Ahhhhhhh!" Ultear hummed, as if Jellal had just mentioned the name of a rather close childhood friend. There was something akin to admiration in the way she looked at the wall opposite. "Scarlet…can I just say one thing Jelly?'

"How about, NO," Jellal cut in immediately. He didn't need Einstein's brains to figure out what Ultear would say next. "It's better if you don't."

"Let me Jelly. Let me."

"Go to hell, Ul."

"Alright I'm saying it-"

"Ul, I'm _warning_-"

"Erza Scarlet has more balls than you do, Jelly, and THAT-" Ultear sprang to her feet immediately as Jellal picked up the alarm clock and aimed it at her. "-IS A FACT,"

Then, laughing aloud like some female monster, she picked up a pillow and dumped it on top of her best friend before he had the chance to throw the alarm clock at her. Jellal hissed like a rabid feline, but he knew that was as far as he could go in terms of getting back at the woman.

"_Why_?" he moaned, "do I get friends like _her?"_

"Because," Ultear chuckled, throwing the pillow aside after five minutes of strangling, and giving Jellal a bear hug from behind (that actually meant strangling him again, this time more directly). "You have got good luck my friend. Good luck in having a friend like me, giving you the _perfect _guidance in life."

Jellal tried to keep that chuckle in for a few minutes, but knowing Ultear and her rather persuasive tendencies when it came to making up for any wrong doing, he gave in and let a smile tug at his lips.

"What would have become of me if you hadn't been in my life Ultear?" he said in a dramatic fashion, grabbing her hands that were wrapped around his shoulders.

"Hmmmm…" Ultear thought aloud. "That's...actually a very difficult question to answer because the possibilities are mind-boggling."

Jellal laughed genuinely at that. The alcohol and frustration seemed to be doing a very fine salsa inside his head, for a dire situation like the one he was in, could have never elicited such a response under normal circumstances. But the fact being that he was drunk and in the company of a friend who always managed to make his problems seem either natural or a bit of a joke, made that reaction look all the more plausible.

"You know what, Ultear?" Jellal whispered, feeling the alcohol really hit him now. For the past few minutes, his anger had been masking its full effects. With that sickening feeling of getting thwarted being driven away by Ul's magic wand, he really seemed to be drifting away from the problem at hand. "If I don't find the girl of my choice in time, I am going to marry you."

Ultear laughed good-humouredly.

"And who's gonna be the wedding planner?" she asked, one hand still wrapped around Jellal and the other, which held the apple, right at her mouth as she took her last bite.

"Lemme guess. Erza Scarlet?" she laughed again.

Jellal pretended to belch.

"Ya, when I decide to marry an octogenarian, that is," he said, nostrils flaring.

"Oh Jelly," Ultear's hands shook around Jellal's shoulders as she laughed to her heart's content. "Don't worry. I'll help you find a girl."

"You've been saying that for the past five years Ul. I don't see any by my side."

Ultear sighed deeply. That was an expected rejoinder for it had not been delivered for the first time after the very same proclamation of a successful bride hunt.

"That's because you have chosen to isolate yourself, my friend. You would have had plenty by your side if you would have had a more _open _approach to life. Not that I'm against it. You do have something to prove and I'm proud of that."

Jellal smiled wistfully as he thought about the singular driving force in his life. How could he forget about the goals that he had set for himself? Those were the only things that gave him the strength and desire to strive for a cause and battle it out with a family (rather, a very _disheartened _and _ashamed _father, and a brother with similar opinions) that thought he was nothing but a big failure; a blotch on the family name. Jellal sighed as the taunts that he had been subjected to since he had entered middle school, rang inside his head.

"You didn't answer my question, Ultear," he said suddenly, eyes fixed on the wall ahead. His grip on Ul's hand had tightened automatically.

"Would you like to marry a guy like me, who as his father states, does nothing but strum his guitar like a madman?"

Ultear stopped guffawing as she realised how serious her friend was. She didn't need to stand right in front of him and look at his face to know that Jellal's eyes had turned distant all of a sudden and were crinkling in dark humour. Being his childhood best friend, she was not unaware of the man's strained relationship with his family. She was well acquainted to almost every aspect of his life and would often shudder when she thought about the nature of troubles that he faced almost every single day.

"Jellal," she whispered, using her free hand to rest her chin on top of his head. "You're the kind of man every girl would like to marry. You have a passion in life, which is very easy for people to have these days, but, you follow that passion, which is something most don't dare to do in their lives. This is what makes you special, and this is something that reflects what's in your heart; lot's of passion and the ability to love unconditionally. Who wouldn't like to marry a guy like that?"

Jellal continued staring at the wall opposite, as if the block of cement and plaster had some deep secrets in store for him. He would often get hypnotised by this part of the room; especially at nights after having a rather _outrageous_ dinner with his family. He didn't know why, but there was something particularly attractive about this wall. Perhaps, it had something to do with the fact that the wall, with its plain, soggy surface, reminded him of his own life that was devoid of several vital components and emotions. It was a reflection of a life that he lived every day; in that little amount of time that he would have meals with his family, and the rest of the day that he would spend in a world where he was nothing without the wealth of his father.

"So, will you marry me if it ever came to that?" Jellal asked again, clutching Ultear's hands even more tightly.

"Jellal, you're drunk," Ultear winced, trying to withdraw her hands. "You should go to sleep."

"Don't feel like it," Jellal moaned, as his head suddenly gave a violent sway. For a moment, it seemed he would pass out on the couch itself.

"Jellal. Sleep," Ultear pressed again, this time, tightening her grip around the man's shoulders to yank him up. It took some effort, but she finally managed to haul him up and walk him towards the bed. Jellal was not a heavy drinker. Therefore, every time that he attempted to drink more than what his capacity was, he ended up either laughing madly, or talking about all the sentimental things in life.

With a gentle push and drop, Ultear managed to lay Jellal on his bed and pulled the blanket over his body. Adjusting the AC temperature, she dimmed the lights and cleared his table off the alcohol bottles and glasses. When the room was restored to its former glory, Ultear went back to check up on Jellal and ran a finger through his hair. His breathing had evened out and he seemed to be muttering something in his sleep, but the woman did not pry. Smiling to herself, she whispered gently, so that even she couldn't hear the uttered words in the silence that had fallen in the room.

"Yes Jellal. I'll marry you."

* * *

Cana Alberona was laughing like she had never laughed before. With glasses clutched in both hands and some amount of smugness etched on her face, she laughed like a madman, her strong voice booming in the small PG room that she shared with her best friend, Erza Scarlet.

"I've to meet this chap one day," she declared, taking a long sip from the glass in her right hand. "Sounds like an interesting man."

"Shut up Cana," Erza hissed, pacing the room in search for something distracting to do. Ever since she'd come back from office, she'd been haunted by the prospect of working with _it. _The thought had actually made her stomach turn during dinner and she had had to grab a bucket and sit with it for almost an hour, cursing as the disgusting taste kept settling on her tongue like a deep coat of muck. With a soap tucked right under her nose to eliminate the nauseous feeling, she thought about the best way to get back at the prick.

"Chill Erza!" Cana drawled, shaking the contents of the glasses she held. "Have a pint and you'll feel your troubles drifting away from you like that," raising her hand in a dramatic fashion, she pretended to pick something from her chest and made it go far away from her, stretching her hand to the fullest.

"Plus, when do you get the opportunity to work with a Fernandes? You could have me do it, no problem at all. I would gladly accept a chance to cuddle that blue haired baby."

Erza raised her brows so high that they were in the danger of disappearing into her hair. The soap was about to crack under the pressure she applied on it.

"Cana?"

"Oh common Erza!" the brunette moaned, getting up all of sudden and sauntering towards her friend to put an arm around her quivering shoulders. "He's a hottie. You can't deny that fact. The whole of Era University was mad about him. Why do you have such a long stick up yer ass?"

"Let him have a conversation with you for five minutes and you'll go hit your head against a wall," Erza spat, her blood boiling.

"If I've a conversation with him for five minutes, he'll be in a dark alley the next instant, driving his stuff against _my _wall," Cana said as a matter-of-factly.

Erza rolled her eyes at that and snatched a glass out of her friend's hand. Without thinking too much about the situation and the fact that she wasn't _that _good at handling alcohol, she downed the drink and almost retched as the strong liquid made its way down her throat. The smell and the taste made her head spin slightly, but she ignored it determinedly as her eyes came to focus on the dart board ahead.

"Where are the darts?" she asked, finally finding the best way to vent her frustration.

"Side-table, second drawer," Cana said casually, snatching back the empty glass and whisking off to make herself another drink.

Erza stumbled her way towards the said table and wrenched open the drawer which was full to the brim. After fishing into it for more than two minutes, she finally managed to find two sharp ones lodged right at the back of the apparatus.

"There you go," she mumbled, feeling her veins pop as the alcohol pushed all the necessary dials in her body, heating her blood and making some steam burst out of her ears. She sent the bar of soap flying across the room as she staggered back to stand in front of the board.

Clutching the darts tightly, her eyes fixed on the target ahead, she tried to think of the board as that Fernandes's head. After two minutes of fierce concentration, the multi-coloured target seemed to produce a whirlpool of colours before all the different hues melded into a stream of bright blue. A tattoo emerged vaguely on the right and a sneering face glared back at Erza, teasing her, challenging her to raise her hand and have a go at it. Taking in a deep breath to calm her nerves and steady her hands, Erza thought about the pleasure she would get if she were to send this thing up that idiot's ass. When the adrenaline charged her insides and made her shiver with anticipation, she felt herself pull her hand back and shoot with all the strength that she could muster. A second later, the pointed edge had lodged itself right into the centre of the board.

"HOME RUN!" Cana bellowed, downing an entire bottle of vodka and getting on top of the bed to cheer loudly.

"Bull's eye, you mean?" Erza smirked, feeling a lot better than before. This, coupled with the alcohol, made her feel like the happiest person on the planet. She felt so great about everything that she could have simply bludgeoned someone to death.

"Naaahh," Cana slurred, downing another bottle, white rum this time. "Seems like home run from where I'm standin'."

Erza decided to ignore the comment and sunk into her study-table chair with a loud thump. If she had been forced to pick up the glass today, it had been that Fernandes's fault. She had rarely been distracted from her aims before. All her life, she had learned how to earn everything by putting in the right amount of hard-work and commitment. All of her achievements, all the medals and trophies that had graced the shelves in her room; all of it had been a symbol of a life that had been tailored to move in a specific direction and towards a specific sets of goals. If she had been forced to make amends for a mistake that she hadn't committed, and then _tricked _into shaking hands with that very person who had made her falter on her march towards development, she had been pretty much slapped in the face and spat at. Even if she were to overlook that knob-head's idiocy, _this_ was something that Erza Scarlet could never forget or forgive.

"Jellal Fernandes," Erza hissed as she took the second aim at the dartboard. In the background, Cana had plopped onto her bed after finishing another bottle of god knows which alcoholic drink.

"I shall never, ever, forget your name."

* * *

**A/N: OOOOOOOHHHHH! Jellal and Erza enemies? A project gone wrong? Ultear's lingering feelings towards her childhood friend? An ambitious project that threatens (?) to strengthen the divide between the lead pair? AND, did Erza just objectify Jellal by regarding him as 'it'?**

**If you wish to know what happens next, you know what important step needs to be taken. Your precious comments are the fuel I need to embark upon this new journey that I have had the pleasure to weave for my fellow Jerza lovers. Of course, there will be a lot of other pairings for this is a wedding planning department that our dear Erza has come up with. Won't you support her in her new venture?**

**To clear any confusion that you might have had while reading this chapter, the 'pink-head' who was introduced as Makarov's lover is... *ahem* Porlyusica. AND, the reason behind Jellal and Erza's enmity will be revealed in the next chapter.**

**ALSO, virtual cookies to those who correctly guess the names of Jellal's family members i.e. his father, his elder brother and his sister-in-law. Well, this is not a competition and the identity of his family is not some surprise that I have come up with to astound you or to set you thinking. Naaaahhhh. This is just for fun. So, let the cogs up there turn and make as many guesses as you like. : P**

**PS- For those who are following 'Second Chances', ****I will update soon. I know it's been a looooong time but, I do intend to finish that story. So, Cheers! :D**

**Reviews? :P**


	2. Team Ultimate

**Disclaimer: Fairy Tail and its characters belong to Hiro Mashima.**

* * *

**-CHAPTER TWO-**

**Team Ultimate**

* * *

Jellal Fernandez ought to have paid a little more attention to the black cat that had crossed his path earlier in the day. Had it not been for that theatrical eye roll he had offered in response to the rather unfortunate event (in the light of his staunch opposition to superstitious beliefs of any kind), he would have thoroughly prepared himself for a day that was full of nothing but ape-shit madness and pure mindfuckery.

Regrettably for him, bad luck seemed to have developed somewhat of a love-hate relationship with him; hate, because it would often wallow in the glory of seeing him squirm with discomfort at being frequently pushed into some rather difficult situations, and love, because it adored him way too much to not let him breathe in peace for even the littlest part of a second.

Basically, he was just a lump of some luckless nobody who was being constantly drilled deep into a bottomless pit of misery.

Sitting amidst a group of animatedly chatting interns, discussing in loud tones and in great lengths about the hot new project that had become the talk of the town, he wondered just what had he done to deserve such a terrible fate. Just a day ago, he'd been glad to have sown the seeds of his inevitable deportation from the battlefield that was this office. Sadly, his plans had been ruthlessly squashed by an equally ruthless redhead who had come into his life as a big bad omen; the initial strike being just the trailer, and her extended presence promising much more damnation than he could have ever imagined a person capable of delivering.

Erza Scarlet was, without a shadow of doubt, the harbinger of dismay, dearth (of luck and peaceful moments, of course) and destruction.

Pinching the bride of his nose and inhaling sharply through his mouth, Jellal Fernandes tried his best to ward off the buzzing sound that grated on his nerves, coming from the excited chattering of the interns around. The hangover was terrible, and if he didn't do anything to get rid of the searing headache that threatened to split his brain into two, he would end up making his day much worse than it was already set to be.

Grabbing the latest edition of _Esquire_ from the nearest table, he tried to immerse himself into the first page that opened before his eyes, subsequently failing to do the same. Once his mind had been injected with bullshit that he really didn't want to bother himself with, he was forced to do anything but shut those thoughts out, confronting them in what could be, one of the most painful encounters of his existence.

It was the first day of the devil's project. One of those many things in life that was going to make him look like a complete asshole in front of a hundred people who already thought him to be a massive blotch on the precious, well-honoured name of his family. A thorn in the side of his father; the spoilt son who was the complete antithesis of every virtue, every value that Faust Frederick Fernandez II had ever stood for. A lot more sympathies could be directed at his old man based on this logic, making him seem like the sane, angelic figure to his son's satanic tendencies, painting Jellal in black for the umpteenth time yet. Not that he could do anything much to improve his situation. Jellal Fernandez had been earmarked to bear the brunt of being born into a family, that boasted of an obnoxious line of businessman who worshiped their money and accounts more than the ambitions of their own children. The day Jellal had picked up the guitar with his tiny baby hands, strumming it contentedly and giggling at his little achievement, he'd been doomed to rot in a hell of absolute parental abandonment.

And here he thought life couldn't have gotten any fucking better.

Sighing, as he finally accepted defeat and let that buzzing, ear splitting murmur take the better of him, Jellal tried to do something relaxing, something that would make up for his lack of sleep on account of having been thrown out of bed by a certain Milkovich, despite a severe headache and lethargy. He'd been cursing the woman ever since, muttering something about best friends turning into vicious serpents and stabbing you in the back. He'd been trying to sleep away the terrible hangover, when the said person had promptly took the blanket off his body and kicked him out of his own goddamn bed, shouting frantically about leaving a good impression by being in time for the first day of a big project. Jellal had muttered something unintelligible and rude to the woman, and had bravely attempted to snatch back his blanket, when she'd splashed a glass of ice cold water right into his face, thwarting any hopes of acquiring some decent sleep. Ragged, beaten and tortured, Jellal 'Jesus save him' Fernandez had then slipped into his bathrobe and his grumpy early morning expression at precisely the same time.

The bathrobe had been long removed, but the expression remained.

And at the moment, there seemed to be no chances of him taking off that mask of annoyance, for the source of his displeasure came walking in through the glass doors, followed by a small platoon of her most devoted followers, so as to say, Sho the Gambler, Milliana the kitty cat and Wally the blockhead (on account of his head resembling a carton of juice).

_Talk about pleasant surprises, _Jellal muttered to himself, ignoring the interns around him who suddenly got up to greet the redhead- Erza the Terrible- as she was called.

Snorting rather loudly at the moniker, Jellal looked away pointedly and wrote sarcasm all over his face to rub the female the wrong way. Sure, she was fast to notice such things.

"Is there a problem, _Fernandez_?" came the cold, chilly inquiry that Jellal had seen coming from miles away.

"Absolutely not, Your Highness," he replied back, his voice too sweet that it stung. The hangover was doing wonders to his sanity. "How are you this morning?"

Erza Scarlet narrowed her eyes at him. Just a day ago, the man in front had been at the verge of attempting homicide. Notwithstanding the heavy amount of sarcasm that saturated his tone, Erza was slightly amused at seeing him sitting on the lobby couch as if nothing had happened between the two over the past one week.

"What makes you so…amicable today?" she put it bluntly, regarding the man warily.

Jellal snorted. "I'm human you know? And humans can be _amicable_ at times."

Erza rolled her eyes while her little band of followers grunted in disdain. It was no secret that the three hated the blunette's guts. Their hatred for him had been evident on the first day itself, when Jellal had dared to stand up to the redhead's tyrannical rule over the poor neophytes that were his colleagues.

"Seems like you figured out things can only work this way," Erza offered, trying to sound a little less confrontational. It was clearly visible on her face, though- her attempt to put a leash on her strong urge to flip over the couch on which the man sat. "I never knew you had it in you to swallow back your ego and cooperate."

Jellal's brow twitched at that. He was instantly reminded of the rather elaborate mail that had been sent to him last night. Since he'd fallen asleep a while before eleven, owing to the copious amounts of alcohol that he'd consumed, Jellal had read that mail while heeding the nature's call in the morning. The poor toilet paper roll had borne the disproportionate brunt of his fury as a result of his pride having been mocked at.

The email, which had seemed pretty decent, professional and diplomatic at face-value, was actually a reservoir of some subtly hidden insults that the redhead had itched to hurl at him since day one. Notwithstanding the furious showdown that had occurred after the incidents preceding the summons by Mr. Dreyar- and their very first meeting, at this very office lobby, which had attracted curious stares from their thoroughly entertained co-workers- this was exactly the third time that Erza Scarlet had attempted to tell Jellal exactly how she felt about him.

The email, as it was sent to him, looked a little like this,

_**From**: Erza Scarlet_

_**To**: Jellal Fernandez_

_**Attachment(s)**: List of Candidates, CV compilation  
_

_**Subject**- Creation of subunits for better division of work_

_Jellal,_

_After having a word with Mr. Dreyar regarding the new project, it has been decided that we will be aided by a group of talented fellow interns, who are willing to cooperate with us in this endeavour of ours. The candidates that are subsequently selected will be divided into various groups, each depending on a specific area of activity that is beneficial to the project. These committees will be the branch committees to our Core Committee; a two member board consisting of myself, the SENIOR PROJECT COORDINATOR (as sanctioned by Mr. Dreyar himself) and you, the JUNIOR PROJECT COORDINATOR (sanctioned again by Mr. Dreyar). We will be responsible for taking all the major decisions and the sub-committees will have to report to us. The sub-committees will also be responsible for handling mechanical work- paper work, record maintenance and other such activities. We have been given the responsibility for choosing the sub-committees, and I would like to inform you that a meeting with regard to this purpose has been scheduled for tomorrow morning at 10.30 in Conference Room no. 2. As the SENIOR PROJECT COORDINATOR, I request you to create a list of all possible candidates who could be a part of the following sub-committees-_

_(a) Accounts_

_(b) Logistics_

_(c) Marketing_

_(d) Creative Team_

_(e) Photography and Art Division._

_I've attached a compilation of CVs belonging to all interns from the current batch so that it may help you in finalising your list. Once you're done with your list, you can have a look at the one that I've created and crosscheck it with yours. After going through both our lists, I will, as the Senior Coordinator, under the guidance of Mr. Dreyar, prepare a final list that will seal the deal and formalise the sub-committees._

_Thank you for your cooperation!_

_Best,_

_Erza Scarlet._

However, to Jellal's well trained and sceptical eyes, the deciphered and thoroughly stripped mail looked a bit like this-

_**Subject**- Creation of some pain in the ass committees that will help us fuck up our work more than it has already been fucked up at the moment._

_Fuck you Jellal,_

_After having a nice little chat with the boss today, who totally favours me and thinks you're incapable of harbouring any higher intellectual facilities, it has been decided that we will be troubled by another set of interns who promise to make things so much more difficult for us (Kiddin'! Only for __**YOU**__!). As if this isn't trouble enough, we'll have to actually waste our time thinking about dividing these nutcases into several groups. Since this was totally my idea and you were somehow dragged into this, we have no choice but to sit together and work on selecting the interns for this shit. I've scheduled a meeting for this purpose and you're required to be at it, no matter how much that troubles you. Then again, I don't really give a damn. AND, there is this thing about me being appointed the __**SENIOR**__ PROJECT COORDINATOR, a position that I damn well deserve because I'm the one who came up with this brilliant idea in the first place... and you're incompetent, which means you don't have it in you to acquire a position of leadership. So, do this work that I'm slapping on your face, __**JUNIOR **__PROJECT COORDINATOR, __coz you're my subordinate henceforth and yeah…SUCK IT LOSER!_

_You better show a little more enthusiasm from this point on,_

_Erza the Terrible._

Jellal had felt like he had been neutered by an electronic mail. Oh the vicious attack on his pride and self-esteem!

Not that it really mattered that he had been kept away from taking important decisions for a project he thought was nothing but a massive headache; a compulsion that had to be dealt with for the next six months, if he were to better his prospects in the music industry.

Thus, swallowing back his intense hatred for the sender of the mail and nursing his wounded pride, Jellal had tried being a little more magnanimous and forgiving. He was no fool after all. If he had to spend the next six months in the company of a person he couldn't stand for more than thirty seconds, he had to come up with an intelligent plan. Therefore, remembering a line from some art of living text he'd read a couple of months back, Jellal thought of the redhead as some poor soul that needed serious help, and tried to overlook her imbecility and unnerving habits as the actions of a madwoman who deserved sympathy more than a backlash. He wasn't just going to waste his energy and brain cells arguing with a person on whom his sensible arguments had been lost since day one.

Therefore, with determination in his heart and resolve in his steps, Jellal had attempted to maintain a clever façade of cooperativeness. Hiding the intense bitterness had been no child's play, but things would have been much worse if he would have gone at it with a competitive attitude in the first place. To his utter misery, though, the redhead seemed to have a nasty penchant for throwing water on his plans.

After all, she just _had _to come in with that cocky expression on her face and remind him of the promotion she'd unfairly received. The email had not been enough. Erza Scarlet had to come and personally rub it on his face for added effect.

"Here's the list," muttered Jellal, trying to avoid eye contact with the woman. He feared he would burst (no pun intended) if he so much as looked in her direction.

Erza raised her brow again. Not only had Fernandez been unnaturally well behaved this morning, he had also managed to complete the work that had been assigned to him. Erza had really been looking forward to introduce him to the consequences of not doing the work on time when he had, to her great surprise and disappointment, managed to pull that sheet out of nowhere. Suspicious of this sudden change in behaviour, Erza gave the list a quick read and frowned, an impeccably done assignment in her hands.

"Oh."

Jellal smirked a little at the exclamation. The expression on the redhead's face was priceless, and his hands itched to take out his mobile phone and click a picture of the woman in such a vulnerable state. Jellal was thoroughly convinced that he'd understood the inner mechanisms of Scarlet's brain. According to him, this all had been a part of the woman's plan; sending him a mail late at night, expecting him to either skip work, considering the lateness of her proposal, or staying up late to actually bother completing it. The former might have been the case, but Jellal Fernandez was clever enough to finish the work given at the breakfast table at a speed that surprised even him.

Sometimes, a Gandhian approach to things could work like magic.

Jellal wanted to say something to burst the redhead's big ego bubble, to jab her where it hurt the most, but he bit his lip and let it be. If he prodded any further, they might just end up having the showdown that he was trying hard to avoid.

Erza Scarlet was left speechless for a moment or two, but she picked herself up pretty quickly, and stuffed the paper into a folder that Kitty Cat was carrying. Straightening the tan coloured coat that she wore (and Jellal vaguely noticed that she didn't look half as bad as he'd expected in the figuring hugging fabric), she gave him one final look of detestation and cleared her throat loudly to assert her authority.

"Just to remind you. We've a meeting in five. Hope you've prepared well."

Jellal looked at his wristwatch and nodded, not bothering to say anything in return. His don't bother-don't open your mouth strategy was working well so far.

_Reverse psychology, _Ultear had explained this morning. _If she expects you to open your mouth and fight back, go ahead and keep mum. It might have unexpected results._

Jellal grinned and mentally thanked his friend for giving him a valuable opinion for once. After a series of failed attempts at making him feel a little better about his miserable life, Ultear had finally taken pity on him and shut her trap about how he had called this upon himself. _She can be a useful friend sometimes_, Jellal thought to himself.

Thinking about friends and other related concepts, Jellal was amazed how things between him and the redhead had actually played out, despite forecasts for a fairer weather the day they had met. Jellal still remembered how he'd stepped out of his car, dreading his first day at work, only to land his eyes on this beautiful goddess of a woman who had emerged gracefully from a taxi ahead, long red hair framing her face like she was some beautiful portrait brought to life. His heart had technically stopped beating for a second, and his breath had hitched in his throat. After a really long time, Jellal Fernandez had felt _alive; _as if all his senses had suddenly sprung to life and revitalised his mind and body. Sadly, the one minute worth of intense physical attraction had taken a turn for the ugly, when a certain other car had come crashing in from behind, smashing the trunk and tail lights of his precious baby.

ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND? WHO THE FUCK GAVE YOU A LICENSE? Jellal had bellowed in extreme annoyance, not bothering to have a look at the offender who had ruined his darling. He'd always been very touchy about the automobile, considering he hadn't taken a penny from his high and mighty dad to get himself one. Despite it being a second hand model that had to be painted well to make it look a bit more presentable, Jellal cherished and valued the baby for what it was really worth.

And he couldn't have let some madman behind wheels get away with a crime as grave as this.

With all the shouting and honking, the redhead had easily picked on what was happening and had dashed to the scene with the intention to help. However, Jellal, in his extreme displeasure and frustration, had continued screaming his head off at the driver who was hidden behind his smashed and completely disfigured boot lid.

To his utter bad fortune, though, the driver responsible for the tragedy turned out to be… _a woman._

And, there was also the fact that he seemed to have parked his car a few inches away from a spot where it _ought_ to have been parked.

Well, that had been recipe enough for the redhead to cook her punishment meal on.

_I'm sorry, but did I just hear you say all those mean things to the lady right here? _She had inquired, her voice icy and her expression stern. From the offending car, a nervous looking Milliana kitty cat had emerged, her hands trembling in fear.

Jellal had been _flabbergasted_ for a second. After all, he had been given a slighting look by a woman he had openly admired just a second ago. That, too, for a mistake that was definitely not his.

_She ran her car into my car, _he'd said simply, trying his best to control that massive surge of fury that had threatened to let lose in front of the gorgeous woman. He could not have let his anger take the better of him in front of a lady he secretly wanted to get his hands on.

_I beg your pardon, sir, but you seemed to have parked your car in the wrong spot, _Scarlet had said then, gesturing to the No Parking sign that was planted inches away from where the tragedy had occurred.

_I was about to move it back into the parking lot, _Jellal had offered, after having suddenly realised that the topic of their little chat had been moving further away from the issue at hand. _But the lady here just rammed into it from behind. I'm sorry, but I'm not the one who needs a lesson in driving._

That did it.

Her nose crinkling in disgust, Erza Scarlet had looked at him as if he were some roadside nutter who deserved to be caned for his _impertinence, _as she had subsequently put it while giving him a long lecture on sexism, patriarchal oppression and (for some strange reason) alcoholism, later in the day.

_All men are the same, _she had grunted, her hands on her hips and her eyes livid. _Bloody sexist bastards! Just who do you think you are huh? Michael fucking Schumacher? I don't know about driving lessons, sir, but you certainly need to get an eye check-up done. _She had pointed again at the blasting No Parking sign that stood inches away like a big mocking slap on his face.

Jellal had been sufficiently deprived of any sharp rejoinder that he might have conjured to defend himself. His mouth had opened and closed a few times in succession, but he had been unable to come up with a good explanation for a mistake that he hadn't even committed.

And so, after this fiery first encounter at the parking lot-correction, a few metres _away _from the parking lot- Erza Scarlet had cultivated a very bad first impression of Jellal Fernandez. As if her accusations in the morning had just not been enough, the woman had subsequently discovered that the guy she had lectured in the morning was the son of the wealthy Faust Fernandez and a fellow intern like her.

What happened after that has been meticulously recorded in the annals of this company's history (and their massive, employee spawned, Gossip Weekly).

The inhabitants of the main foyer right up to the reception, and the owners of some hundred work stations on the first floor office area, can possibly never forget the scene that had unfurled before their eyes during lunch break. A completely clueless and astonished Jellal Fernandez cornered by a fuming redhead, reprimanding him for god knows what delinquencies he had been found guilty of in that little span of time that they had known each other for. Jellal could still remember snippets from that extended speech she had delivered with much passion- "_Rich brats…think money can buy them everything in this world…not an ounce of respect…uptight and mannerless thugs"…_among other such things.

Basically, Erza Scarlet had managed to completely assassinate his character and slay his reputation in front of a hundred people, who had then snickered behind his back for the rest of the week. All the more reason for him to leave the much dreaded job, yes, but humiliating enough to not let him ever think about forgiving the woman for her cheekiness. Even today, Jellal cursed himself for having ever considered extending a hand of friendship towards the lady, and for thinking, even for a second, that she was the most beautiful woman he had come across in his life.

Not that he could disagree on the last bit even after all of what had happened between them.

Damn pretty redheads with beautiful brown eyes.

Jellal sank further into the couch and almost threw the magazine that he had been holding across the floor. The past few days of his life had turned him into this grumpy individual who sported a perpetual frown on his face. On the contrary, many of his true friends who knew about his usual demeanour wouldn't have recognised him for what he had become, all thanks to the genuine efforts of a certain redhead who had managed to pull his brows together in an eternal glower.

* * *

Erza Scarlet checked her watch for the umpteenth time. Quarter to eleven and there was no sign of Jellal Fernandez in Conference Room no. 2.

"He's late," she said simply, her voice at the verge of cracking under the strain of her increasing frustration. Her cheeks had begun to turn red, a sign that could clearly be read as 'STAY OUT OF MY FRIGGIN' WAY IF YOU DON'T WANNA GET CLOBBERED."

Milliana, who had been busy checking messages on her Blackberry, looked up from the little screen and placed a soothing hand on her new best friend's arm.

"Chill Eru-chan. You know how it is with him. We can start without him if you want."

"As much as I would love to chuck him out of this business altogether, Milliana, I can't help but put up with his indecency because he is, unfortunately, the co-coordinator of this project. He has to be present during all our meetings. Strict directions from Mr. Dreyar."

Sho clicked his tongue impatiently at that.

"What a drag," he muttered, playing with a queen of spades in his hands. "Why is he a part of this project again?"

Erza let out a burst of breath and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Because Mr. Dreyar thinks this will be his redemption for coming up with that sickening idea during our first assignment."

Sho scowled. So did Wally, who had been checking out some movie DVDs that he had pulled out of his satchel.

"Does this list contain names of those idiots who sided with him during that fiasco?" he asked, concern written all over his face. He couldn't help but feel repulsive at the thought of working with Jellal's annoying little cronies. "Especially that over-excited ball of energy with pink hair…what was her name again?"

"Meredy," hissed Milliana, looking nothing short of petrified.

"Please Eru. Do something about that woman! She shouldn't be a part of this project! Pretty please?"

Erza sighed. She was a project coordinator, true, but she wasn't just going to misuse her position to fulfill her friends' requests.

"I can't do that Millie," Erza said, her tone gentle, yet imposing. "You know how this works, don't you? I've got to be a responsible leader."

"You do remember what she tried doing to me on the first day, don't you, Eru-chan?" Milliana pleaded, horror-struck. "I swear to god Eru, she almost pushed me off the first floor railing when she ran up to me on the first day to coo at my little Berry and Sir Thomas. Her ass, which hit me square in the knee, was quite…hard."

"I bet so is her head," Sho offered, shuddering, as he recalled his own first encounter with the overly-enthusiastic fellow intern. He couldn't quite forget how she had rammed into him during lunch hour, which subsequently led to him lying almost lifeless on the infirmary bed for an hour to nurse some bruised ribs.

Erza sighed again.

"She might be an _enthusiastic _young lady, yes," she began, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "But, she has some spectacular achievements to fall back on. Out of all the other interns, she has a splendid track record in the field of event management and a mind boggling IQ. I'm afraid to say this, but out of all the interns, myself included, she is the most well-suited for this project."

The trio around her flinched and paled.

"Why oh why," began Milliana, her hands flailing around her like she had been possessed, "-do we have to deal with that _bimb_?"

"What's this?" The group was suddenly interrupted by a sickeningly sweet and sugary voice that came from the entrance to the conference chamber. "Am I missing out on some interesting office gossip?"

Jellal Fernandez let out a tiny chuckle as he walked in with his hands in his pockets, closely tailed by the much dreaded pink-head.

"Don't bother Meredy," he said, sidestepping a very _pissed _Erza, as he made his way towards one of the chairs at the end of the long, oval table. "You might end up losing some brain cells if you listen to any of this bullshit office chinwag."

Milliana looked like she had just been punched in the face. Sho and Wally made rude, grunting noises.

"Explain," began Erza, her voice shaking with fury, "-to me, your extended absence from this extremely important first meeting. I seemed to have made it _very clear _that the meeting was supposed to begin at 10.30 _sharp."_

Jellal pretended to not have heard the redhead. He continued to talk to Meredy, who happened to be eating a donut and chatting at the same time, spraying crumbs all over the place.

"_And_, food items are _not _allowed inside the Conference Chamber."

Jellal raised a brow and pointed at Wally.

"So are DVDs of any kind…_and _kittens."

Milliana's head quirked at the mention of her darlings and she looked absolutely outraged.

"That was _one _time, _out _in the lobby, _not_ _inside _the Conference Chamber," she said through gritted teeth, arms folded and head held high. "I never go anywhere without my Berry and Sir Thomas, yahearme?" She added venomously.

"A blatant violation of company policies nevertheless." Jellal quipped in return.

"Stop it," Erza cut in, almost at the verge of throwing someone out of the window. "Stop it this very instant. Fernandez," she turned to look at the man, her eyes bloodshot red. "You. Have. Some. Explaining. To. Do."

Jellal let out a sigh and slouched into one of the chairs, looking the least bit ruffled.

"I was waiting for my partner here," he pointed at Meredy who winked and waved at everybody in the room. "Who got called in by the boss. If you're allowed to carry your _followers _around," he then pointed at the other three nutcases in the room "-then I'm allowed to tag along with friends as well. Besides, Meredy is my new partner for the project."

Erza blinked.

'Excuse me?" she said, her voice so low and deep that it almost sounded like a growl. "The last time I checked, you had no authority to make independent decisions of any kind for this project. Besides, we're yet to come up with the final list."

Jellal shut his eyes for a second, trying _not_ to look at the way the tan coat hug Scarlet's perfect figure. He had to sound a bit more assertive if he were to stand his ground in front of the quadruplet of insensibility, as he called them.

"Let's not look at the formalities, shall we?" he said then, his voice, calmness personified. Or so he thought.

"We all know Meredy is good enough for the job and gets a special recommendation from Mr. Dreyar himself. Besides, it will be better for us to have a moderator on each side, you know, making sure we make the _right _decisions and not grab each other's throat for every point that we disagree on. You've her," Jellal pointed casually at Milliana, "-I've Meredy. Simple as that."

Erza stiffened. There was something imperceptible about the expression that had settled on her face as she looked at Jellal in an attempt to comprehend his words. The papers that she was carrying in her hands, shook slightly, but there was nothing on her face to express the possible conflict that raged inside her head. She looked down at the list and then back up again, attempting to arrive at a decision.

"Fine," she said finally, suddenly all professional and collected. The change in behaviour was so drastic, that it was impossible to believe that the same woman had seemed two seconds away from attempting homicide just a minute ago.

"She can stay back," she turned to look at the other two males in the room and nodded. Sho and Wally obeyed her silent command with visible hesitation on their faces and stalked out of the room, not without grunting in the direction of the newcomers and giving them a hard, murderous look.

Jellal smirked at his little victory and made himself comfortable in his seat. "Shall we proceed with the meeting now? Or are we waiting for some more _associates _to show up_?_" he said, his tone mocking.

Erza opened her mouth to say something, to reprimand him again, but she held her tongue and forced herself to go back to the list. She'd no intentions of boosting her already skyrocketing blood pressure. Looking up at Milliana, she nodded and pointed at the file in her hands.

"Sure thing," chirped the latter, taking out a pen from her fuchsia coloured Hello Kitty bag and settling down to write the minutes.

Then, taking a deep breath and running a quick hand through her hair (long, beautiful red hair, Jellal noticed with much reluctance), Erza laid the sheets down on the table and began a long process of elimination and discussion that went on for two and a half hours straight; jam packed with palpable tension, vehement opposition, and finally- after much effort and persistence- a reliable, yet sourly arrived at conclusion.

* * *

Jellal Fernandez stood in front of the team that would be his own to command for the next six months and _flinched. _Any thoughts that he might have cultivated in favour of a tolerable experience with the project, were sent down the drain as he looked at the final product of the board's spotless decision making skills.

The team was nowhere near how he'd imagined it to be; looking like it had been picked and assembled in the worst segments of his nightmare. Surprisingly, even Erza Scarlet didn't seem all that comfortable with the idea; her expressions clearly exhibited the level of regard she held for the handiwork of the company board. After all, the team that they had painfully assembled in Conference Room no. 2, working meticulously and painstakingly through scores of CVs and papers, was nowhere near the one that had been finalised by old man Makarov and his board of trusted (twisted) advisors. So much for being the senior project coordinator with tremendous decision making powers.

Jellal could actually spot a few strands of grey in his blue hair. And it hadn't even been an _hour_ since the inception of Project Wedding Planning- the tentative project name printed in the registers.

Makarov Dreyar twirled his moustache and hopped around the selected interns, eyes twinkling, lips pulled up in a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"Tada!" he exclaimed, drawing an arc in the air with his hands as he attempted to introduce the new members. "Put your hands together, for the dream team of the year!"

Most of the interns turned to look grumpily at the two project coordinators, perhaps, cursing them for this shit that they had been dragged into. A few of them grunted, while some even seemed as if they were not mentally present in the room, their eyes all misty and dreamy. The handful who actually gave a damn about the project, smiled so enthusiastically about having been passed through, that Jellal almost fell sorry for their inevitable march towards a cruel process of disillusionment. After all, who would want to put up with a team that couldn't be described as anything but a retarded assortment of lunatics? Even the bravest of the newcomers couldn't put up with the utter idiocy of this whole wedding planning business for too long.

Makarov Dreyar cleared his throat loudly, effectively drawing the attention of every single intern present in the room. The newcomers stiffened and Erza Scarlet drew in a sharp breath, preparing herself for the introduction cum ice breaking session that was soon to follow.

Time had come for Jellal to feel even more miserable than he had collectively felt throughout his life.

He gulped and looked down at the scary list that shook in his hands, memorised to the point where Jellal was certain the names had been burned into his memory. For an eternity. In the exact order.

He cursed his luck for the umpteenth time that day.

**_LIST OF CANDIDATES SELECTED FOR PROJECT: WEDDING PLANNING_**

**_Accounts:_**

_(1) Buchanan Richard_

_(2) Sho_

_(3) Olietta Laki_

**_Marketing:_**

_(1) Lates Hibiki_

_(2) Tearm Eve_

_(3) Milliana_

_(4) Akatsuki Ren_

**_Logistics:_**

_(1) Midnight _

_(2) Zancrow_

_(3) Cobero Erik_

**_Creative Team:_**

_(1) Meredy_

_(2) Angel_

_(3) Lohr Rufus_

_(4) Rustyrose_

**_Photography and art:_**

_(1) Buchanan Wally_

_(2) Hikaru Kain_

_(3) Blendy Sherry_

No matter how many times Jellal looked at the list, he could only see disaster written all over the A4 sheet in his hands.

_Kill me, somebody, _he whined.

* * *

**(A/N): Somehow, I disagree with Jellal on this point coz I know this team totally kicks ass. What? You don't think so?**

**Ya ya, yell at me, throw stuff at me. I disappeared for like three months without a word and made you guys wait for soooo long for an update. You've the right to be pissed at me. I was... a little busy and surrounded by problems at all levels. Even now, I'm gearing up for my semester finals which are like a month away. Nevertheless, and as I always say, I'm not going to leave any of my stories unfinished. You might have to wait for updates at times, but I'll be happy if you guys be a lil' patient and bear with me.**

**So, liked it? Did not like it? Tell me by putting something into that big box at the bottom of the page :)**

**Also, I wonder why no one tried guessing who Jelly's family members (his dad, big bro, sis-in-law) were? I thought it was going to be a fun lil game, you know, just guessing and coming up with crazy ideas. Not that it's a big deal. Just curious.**


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